Say Good Bye
by Krissby
Summary: After Tifa gets injured, Cloud is reminded of certain memories with her.


**Quick Note: The scenes will be changing, about every other one will be the beginning scene and the in-betweens will be flashbacks… hope this doesn't confuse anyone!**

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Saying Goodbye

Chapter 1

His hand shook as he brushed her matted hair from her forehead, slowly… reverently, staring with morbid disbelief as the blood continued to slide from her temple. She had never felt so light in his arms before; he could barely feel her. He tightened his grip around her shoulders, shifting her limp body closer to his own in a reassuring hug of her existence – that she was still there, with him.

His fingertips continued to map her face, over her cheeks, her chin, and his thump ghosting over her lips. Her face was completely relaxed despite the hell surrounding them. Bombs continued to burst all around, the shouts and groans of war and death blended into a symphonic dun of mortality, while the exclamations of their friends were lost with the surging roar of their enemies.

The black smudge of gun powder and dust was caked in her sweat and blood, but despite that, she continued to look beautiful in… in what? Tifa wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Sephiroth or his remnants couldn't kill her and certainly some shrapnel wasn't enough to kill her. But… the wound to her head…

Cloud felt his heart falling away. He had seen it. When he turned to check up on her, he saw her nimbly, effortlessly dodge the bomb and its blast, but the shrapnel was much larger than normal and collided with the side of her head. They locked eyes the moment it hit and in that moment as he saw her consciousness leave her, Cloud lost his reason.

Nothing was important anymore, nothing was more important than to see Tifa merely stumbling and giving him a sheepish look while she rubbed her head, instead of lying inert on the ground. Her tangled and burnt hair had covered her face and her shoulders, weakly armoring her from the destruction that continued without her. She had laid so, so still with a composed, peaceful expression beneath her ebony threads.

They always seemed to have peaceful expressions when he held them in his arms… Zack… Aerith… Tifa… but this time… he not only felt anguish and anger, but desperation and fear. He needed Tifa like he needed air. He was at his breaking point and if she did not survive this, then nothing would.

_'Open your eyes Tifa… please… open your eyes._'

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He grinned from behind her head, keeping his hands over her eyes as he carefully guided her up the staircase. He could smell the fragrance in her hair as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Remember no peeking, we're almost there…"

He felt her cheeks broaden into a smile and her head shook slightly, "And how exactly do you expect me to open my eyes with your hands covering them?" Her brows knitted when she found the top of the steps after trying to step up into air.

He chuckled and planted a kiss on her shoulder, "We're almost there."

He led her onto the roof and had her stay still, promising him that she would keep her eyes closed while he moved about, quickly lighting the lanterns and candles he had set up earlier in the day. The firelight illuminated the roof with a warm, romantic glow, shining off the table settings, competing with the starlight.

With a final glance, he cast one more appraising look about the area, making sure everything was in order before he approached her and lightly touched her cheek, "All right, open your eyes."

She twisted her lips into an amused smile and quirked her brows before she slowly opened them. He felt his heart swell as her facial expressions told him that he done well. Her hands flew to her face as she ran to the table and looked all around her at the lanterns and candles and flowers.

"Cloud, oh! Thank you! So, this is what you've been doing all day?" She grinned at him, giving him that special look in her eyes that she only gave to him. In the candlelight, they seemed especially enchanting, sparking with firelight, starlight, and her love for him.

'That's right. She… loves me.' Cloud never thought he would ever believe it. It didn't seem possible. Tifa Lockhart was in love with him and apparently had been for quite some time.

He smiled warmly as he watched her drift to the edge of the roof to look up at the stars. He knew how much she loved the night sky. Even from when she was little, she was always looking upwards, watching the stars and making wishes on those that streaked across the velvety expanse. Cloud never knew what she wished for, but perhaps, she would let one of his come true.

"Marry me, Tifa."

She stilled and looked back down towards him, the smile on her face slowly sliding off, and her eyes widening in shock.

Cloud jammed a hand in his pocket and another through his hair in embarrassment, "I-I know that it may not be the smartest thing to do… right now, with the Underground situation and all, but – "

"Say it again." She cut in.

He looked at her with a startled expression, before his slack mouth bloomed into a grin, "Tifa… marry me?"

A half sob tore through her lips as she ran to him, tightly embracing and being tightly embraced in return. She laughed and sobbed as she moved her head beneath his chin, nodding, trying to nonverbally convey her consent, considering that her mouth was failing her.

"I don't even have to say 'please'?" He leaned back to look into her face with a wry smile.

She gave him a light-hearted jab and laughed, "No. That was perfect."

"This is perfect," He whispered, oozing masculinity and a little cheesiness that made her heart flutter. The blonde swordsman leaned forward to plant a simmering kiss onto her lips, eliciting a content sigh from the woman in his arms as she relaxed into him. Their kiss grew more ardent, and their arms grew achingly tighter as they searched for simply more.

The rest of their dinner lay forgotten on the roof as they fumbled their way back to their bedroom, neither of them really looking where they were going as they moved through the dark quiet. The sounds of their breathing and moaning and rustling fabrics seemed too loud in the silent bar but the worry of actually waking the children didn't cross their minds.

They took turns removing each other's clothing in between kisses with pleasure and took great delight when removing the final barriers between them. Their bodies were instantly, continually drawn together like magnets and just like during battles, they moved in sync with one another. They read each other's movements and stayed with their partner until that last earth shattering moment when it felt as if their entire world had given way and life itself was ecstasy.

It wouldn't be until morning when he would finally present her the ring, but at that moment, it really didn't matter. Tifa Lockhart was going to be his bride and she loved him.

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Dirt and debris rained down on them as another bomb blast showered the area with earth and more shrapnel. Cloud quickly covered her body with his own, wrapping his arms around her head.

He had to get her out of there.

With this realization, Cloud picked her up and sprinted towards his motorcycle, Fenrir. He deposited her on the seat with care and sat behind her, holding her between the arms he guided the vehicle with, and sped off towards the edges of the battle where the WRO had set up medical stations.

He had to deflect bullets and dodge spells as he navigated through the chaos. There were times in which he truly hated the choices he made in his lifetime, such as joining the military and becoming enmeshed in all this… destruction. Despite saving the Planet and all… was all this even worth it? If… Tifa's death was a product of all this… then no, he really didn't think it was. He cast Barriers on them as he pushed Fenrir to its limits and tucked Tifa's head beneath his chin.

All of the medical attendants were busy attending to the screaming, inflicted patients that were already flooding and continuing to the flood the tents as more of the wounded were carried in. A soldier was Confused and haphazardly attacking anyone that was near in the corner while a Berserker was being restrained by a group of nurses while they tried to heal him. With a quick look around, he could tell that all their supplies were running low. He overheard a panicked nurse tell a doctor that they were out of Remedies and Phoenix Downs, and were running low on Ethers to help those who knew how to use the materia.

Despite their importance, Cloud knew that getting Tifa help quickly was not going to happen here, and rushed her back outside with a growl of frustration.

He found a clear area nearby, outside of the medical tents, away from the madness that rivaled even the battlefield. He gently set Tifa down to lean against the side of the truck they hid behind, rummaging around in his pockets for a potion. His own Restore materia had been knocked from his equipment a while ago and he had used his last Phoenix Down on Yuffie earlier. He could have laughed with relief when he found a Hi-Potion, and quickly reached for Tifa again, cradling her in an arm while he held the potion to her lips, nudging them open with the bottle. His eyes watched the effervescent liquid as it poured into her mouth and unobstructed down her throat, but they grew frantic as he searched her body, trying to find signs that the potion was working on her wounds. There were none.

He could feel the stirrings of hysteria beginning to creep up from his gut as he impatiently waited for her to heal. He cursed his reliance on materia and potions for these matters. Aerith would have known what to do; she could have healed her if she was alive. Tifa even, would have helped calm him down, but even imagining that she was there encouraging him would have been futile because as he looked down at her, the despair was deafening.

Cloud reached into his pockets again and called Barret. He didn't answer the first time, but he called again and Barret finally picked up with a shout into the receiver, "THIS BETTER BE GODDAMN IMPORTANT SPIKE!"

"It's Tifa," Cloud spoke, his hand finding hers and squeezing tightly.

"…….." He could hear shouting and gunfire in the background, and then a much more subdued voice, "Where are you?"

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He looked at the time on his phone and cringed. She wasn't going to like this. This was the 8th night in a row he had come home late, but this was by far the latest. With his deliveries taking him farther and farther away from home, he wasn't making it back at his usual time before dinner. Dawn wasn't too far off now, which meant that she would actually be waking in only a few hours to send the children off to school.

He could tell that Tifa didn't like it, but she wasn't saying anything to him about it, which he greatly appreciated. After all, he was doing it for her… at least, something for her… for them.

Cloud removed his boots before carefully unlocking and entering their home, doing his best not to make any noise as he closed the door behind him. Tifa was a freakishly light sleeper, and would often wake at the mere presence of someone else in the house. He hoped that she had at least gotten used to his late arrivals and wouldn't wake up, but to be on the safe side, the man had taken the habit lately of removing his heavy boots before coming in.

Thankfully, all was silent inside and the lights were off, even the ones that she usually kept on for him when he was running late. Cloud frowned and looked up the stairs towards the closed bedroom door before deciding to sleep downstairs again. He and the couch were keeping each other company lately, and despite its comfort, it was incredibly lonely.

He tip-toed farther into the room while unbuckling his sword holster, eager to get its weight off of his back, as he headed towards the den.

"Where were you?" Her cold voice stopped him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

He slowly turned around, his eyes contrite and wary, as they landed on Tifa's form on the bench near the wall. From the way she was raising herself, he could tell that she had been sleeping on the booth seat, waiting for him.

"Wutai."

Despite the dark, he didn't miss how her eyes widened and shined with hurt, "I thought you weren't going to deliver there more than once a week anymore…" Her voice was thick with disapproval.

It was true – he had promised her that he wouldn't, but the money…

Cloud looked away guiltily, "I know."

"I don't know why you're doing this Cloud. We don't need the money, the children miss you, and you're running yourself ragged," The disappointment in her voice was enough to nearly drive him to confess everything, but he wouldn't let himself; he owed it to her to follow through with his plan.

She sighed and walked passed him, folding her blanket over her arm as she started to ascend the stairs. Cloud watched her go with remorse, before looking down.

Tifa had paused however, and threw over her shoulder, "Well, are you coming to bed or not?"

Cloud's eyes snapped back towards her and grinned with relief. It didn't take him much time to reach a decision and bounded after her, following her up the stairs and into her arms in their bed.

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The bed she lay on was high, perhaps as tall as his waist if he stood. It was crisply starched and neatly made. Tifa would hate that when she woke up.

For the clean, organized person that she was, she hated made beds after they were used. She was the type to tug and curl with them until they cocooned her. Having learned the proper way to make a bed drilled into his head every single morning for two years in the barracks, it was hard for him to get used to her quirk.

It drove him absolutely crazy the first several months they began to wake up in each other's beds. After all, it was a lot easier to find her warm body under the covers when the sheets were made and there would be nothing in their way when she would eventually wrap herself around him; her breath smelling faintly of peppermint when he breathed her air.

The air around them now was clean and sterile. Nothing rained upon them, but tubes, wires, stiff sheets, and occasionally nurses stayed stubbornly in between them. He could touch her hand, but not much else.

Tifa was a stark contrast to the white, gleaming, sterile environment they were in. Her dark hair spread like night across her pillow and her limbs looked much tanner than they were against the white sheets. The blood, sweat, and dirt had been washed off, revealing the coursework of bruising on her body.

Considering that she fought with her hands and feet, there really weren't that many wounds on her, but that one to her head was massive, extending down to her shoulders and partially across her forehead. When lifted, her eyelids revealed the broken blood vessels in her eyes, turning the whites into red. The contrast there made her merlot eyes look dark, brown, and lifeless. He had to look away when the doctors shone their lights into them.

It was the second week after she had been carried into the hospital by a team of relatively good looking but vicious looking fighters. Even Reeves had been there to ensure that she received the best care and made her a priority.

She would have hated that too: being treated as more important than others. She still hadn't realized that when the others treated her as such in occasions of her health, it wasn't so much for her own benefit, but theirs. If they lost her, they lost a lot more than a mere acquaintance or a fighting buddy. Tifa was their family, in some cases, the only family they had.

The day she had been taken from Intensive Care, was a small miracle for Cloud. He instantly removed his gloves and sought her skin – a hand, a cheek, a toe, it mattered not. As long as her flesh was warm and alive, he needed to feel her. After years of skirting around each other, Cloud discovered not too recently that he was a very affectionate person in terms of touch. He touched her when and wherever he could. He touched her in greeting, in farewell, in love, and in sadness. He touched her to know she was still there and even as a form of possession. It showed everyone that may have seen his gesture that this woman allowed his touched when she punched out anyone else who tried, excluding the children.

That night, he refused to let her go again.

"Hey, uh… Spike?" The voice Barret used was the softest Cloud had ever heard, "The doctor's say that we should get going and let her rest."

"I'm not leaving," Cloud replied, just as softly.

"Cloud, she'll still be here in the morning," Shera tried.

He didn't answer and continued to hold Tifa's hand, rubbing the back of her knuckles soothingly. When Barret put his large hand on his shoulder Cloud stilled, the aura around him growing deathly dangerous, and the look in his already cold, glowing eyes was enough to make the room's conscious occupants gasp.

He wasn't leaving and that was final. The hospital staff knew that if the largest, most dangerous looking of them all wasn't going to influence, the smaller, weaker looking of the two, then they certainly had no chance.

He tried to ignore all the whispers, but when he couldn't he hated them. They sympathized and condemned at the same time. He didn't want to hear their prognoses or hypotheses. They said that she would never wake up and how much of a shame it was and why, if he was so strong, why couldn't he protect her.

He reached out, and with a shaking hand, he brushed back her hair covering her forehead, slowly petting her hair as his throat began to tighten and his brow drew together. Her skin was cool to the touch and felt entirely too swollen, it had an almost spongy quality to it.

It was physically hurting him to see her like this but taking his eyes off of her was out of the question. All he knew was that he had to be there when she finally woke up. Because she would, she had to.

His breathing was difficult and his eyes burned. He couldn't stop his mind from imagining leaving the hospital without her. He couldn't stop seeing Marlene and Denzel's faces or envisioning walking into the Seventh Heaven without her. He couldn't imagine waking up without her, or hearing her voice, or inhaling her scent. Her warmth, her essence, her soul was irreplaceable. There were still many things that he didn't understand about the LifeStream and the Promised Land and he didn't know what would exactly happen to her if she… died. What he did know, was that she would be gone forever.

He wouldn't be able to touch her like this, or tuck his chin onto her shoulder as she cooked, or walk-in on her "accidentally" as she showered, or fist her hair as they made love, or argue over the television. He would know exactly where he left his things that he would set down randomly through the house because she wouldn't be there to pick up after him and lecture him later. He wouldn't have to worry about meeting her on time for dinner or not having a made bed at night. No one would chide him for tracking in dirt and complain about him smelling like gasoline. Her lips wouldn't kiss him at night, her arms wouldn't wrap around him when the nightmares began, and her voice wouldn't tell him how much she loved him.

This woman loved him. This woman, whom he had loved since they were children, who had watched over and protected him, who fought with him, and helped him find himself when the world and his own existence didn't make sense, loved him.

Tifa, his best friend, his lover, his wife. She was irreplaceable and currently lay before him, not likely to wake up.

"Tifa… I know, that no matter what I say… you probably won't reply," He smiled slightly, remembering all the one-sided conversations he'd had with her the past two weeks. "But, in case you can actually hear me… I just want to say, how much I miss you." He emphasized those last few words as he raised her hand to his lips. He brushed her hand with his lips, kissing their wedding ring, and was surprised to feel wetness, tears fallen from his own eyes had actually fallen. He couldn't remember the last time he cried.

"Even though it feels like I've done it enough times to not be affected… I'm not good at saying goodbye. So, please… don't make me say it and just… open your eyes and come back to me, Tifa. Come back to me."

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"You're leaving again?"

Her voice was quiet, but it could have been gunfire in the empty bar.

His hand paused on the door handle, and his eyes closed. He was tired of this. He hated having to go through this every time with her.

"Obviously," His almost winced; his voice and reply came out a lot colder than he had meant to.

"I see… so… I guess… we lost…" He could tell when she spoke to herself; her voice would always be shaky and quiet.

"Yeah…" He yanked open the door and stepped out into the harsh sunlight. It was actually still fairly rare that the gray clouds surrounding the area would burn away long enough for the massive star to shine through. He looked up and shaded his eyes with a gloved hand and breathed gently. It was fantastic.

A sharp pain lanced through his arm, crippling the hand shielding his eyes. His right hand unconsciously came up to grip his left arm, carefully hidden by the leather sleeve. If Tifa saw that…

He shook his head and fisted his hands. If Tifa saw that, she would try her best to cheer him up and cheer him on. She was like that, always smiling and being that supportive figure that always took care of you without a single self-possessed thought to the consequences.

He didn't want to be cheered up. He didn't want to take his mind of off it. This was his punishment. He had to accept it. If he refused to escape the guilt, then it would only burden Tifa even more. He would rather have her angry with him than disappointed and fearful as soon as she saw what they were calling Geostigma.

He grabbed his sword by the door and heaved it onto his back as he walked out towards Fenrir. He was honestly not sure where he was going to go. He certainly had enough options, but… nothing appealed. No where did he feel the urge to be except the one place he was leaving behind. He threw a leg over the mechanical beast and turned the ignition, bringing it to life with a rumbling roar.

Suddenly, the door was thrust open and an angry, teary Tifa rushed out. Her fists were clenched and she panted slightly, her face was red and her teeth were clenched.

"The least you could do is say 'goodbye'!" She spat from the doorway.

He exhaled slowly and raised his goggles to his face. He refused to look her in the eyes and sat back in his seat, resting his hands flat on his thighs. Why did she want this? How was this a good farewell? She had every right to be angry with him and he knew it because that was what he intended. If she was angry with him, then all the easier it would be to finally sever that which bonded them and when he died… then she wouldn't cry tears of sadness. In his experience, anger was preferable to sadness any day.

He finally looked up at her and met her eyes, "Good bye, Tifa."

Perhaps it was the finality in his voice or the fact that he actually said it without a retort that made shock slide onto her face. She paled and her arms lost their tension to hang limply at her sides. Her black hair curtained her face as she hung her head, not watching her childhood friend ride off to who knew where.

For the first time, she also bid him farewell in a hushed, cracked voice, "Good bye… Cloud."

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One week later, Tifa hadn't yet moved. At times, her eyelids fluttered, and her muscles would spasm after sponge baths, and the bruising was almost gone, but she had yet to wake up.

The others continued to fight Underground, and the end was in sight. Vincent and Yuffie weren't able to visit much, if at all, for obvious reasons, but when they did, they subtly tried to get Cloud back to the battlefield. They needed his strength, but didn't Tifa need it as well?

Cloud sat back in his chair next to Tifa's bed and yawned till his jaw popped, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his spine. With a glance at the clock on the wall, he realized that it had been a good three days since the last time he had eaten something. Nurses brought him water frequently, but he tended not to pay attention to his hunger. He immersed himself in the books Barret and Nanaki brought him, sometimes reading to Tifa. The doctors suggested that he keep speaking to her, said that it might help her.

He rubbed his face and stood. Maybe he would get something to eat real quickly and bring it back to her room. He sighed and considered calling Barret and getting an update on the kids. He felt a little bad about not letting them visit Tifa very often.

"You're leaving?" The voice was so quiet, he wasn't sure if he had heard it correctly.

From near the door, he whipped back around and stared hard at her. He was sure he had heard her voice… right? Cloud rushed back to her side and grasped her hand, waiting for her eyes to open. When they finally fluttered open, Cloud felt his if his skin was too small. He was bursting.

"Tifa?!"

She opened her eyes and immediately found him. She smiled. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He sealed her smile with his own, kissing her lightly then more passionately as he realized how much he really missed her – her taste, her scent, her love.

"Hello," He ran his hand through her hair, "You're late," He teased.

She giggled, "I'm sorry… but I couldn't say good bye yet."

Cloud's handsome face became serious, and he kissed her lightly again and again, "Never say good bye, Tifa…. Never, ever say good bye."

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**AN: I've never played Dirge of Cerberus, so I kinda abused the idea of it and took advantage of it :D. I know I should get a longer story going, but I'm actually working on another in-depth Bleach fanfiction, woohoo! So, if you like IchiRuki, keep an eye out for it! But I'll try to get a FF7 one started at least before the summer is up. **

**Hope you like this, please review!!!! ^__^  
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